Learning to Breathe
by Twylise
Summary: Both the war in Gensou Kai and the shinigami's involvement in Kamakura has finished. Yet, the aftermath of these leads the lives of those in the Shokan division into a whole new phase. (ON HIATUS)
1. Chapter 1

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Author's notes: This story is set a little while after the conclusion of both the Kamakura and the Gensou Kai arcs and since I have no clue how either of those stories will end, I'm pretty much going to have to fake it, making this story an AU of sorts. I'm also going to have to warn anyone reading this that a lot of my information is solely gleaned from translations (found at Theria.net, a Yami fan's paradise ^_^) and so maybe a little inaccurate at times. If I've misunderstood any key points, please alert me and I'll be thrilled to make corrections; unless it ruins my entire plotline, then I'll just have to use the good ole 'its an AU' excuse. 

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Spoiler Warning: There's probably going to be heaps of spoilers relating to Hisoka's family. In fact, I'm not even sure it's possible to understand this story without being aware of everything that has happened in the manga so far…Which is going to make things difficult for me because I don't have a full understanding either. ^^;; 

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Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, that privilege belongs to the wonderful Matsushita-sensei. Let us all worship her.

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Learning to Breathe

Chapter 1

Despite Tatsumi's workaholic nature, it was unusual for the secretary to successfully get through the workload he set for himself each day. This was not due to any slackness on Tatsumi's part. It was just difficult to concentrate on paperwork when the usual, daily chaos was in full swing in the Shokan division. Today, however, the shadow master had been quite fortunate; Watari had only blown up his lab twice, Tsuzuki managed to only short circuit one of the older, less expensive computers when he was typing up his report (by spilling hot cocoa over it) and when the violet eyed Shinigami had gotten into a quarrel with Terazuma it was because the younger God of Death had pushed him out of a window, so the following brawl took place outside, leaving company property undamaged. 

Of course opinions on this might differ if one were to consider that both Terazuma and Tsuzuki could be counted as 'company property'. But this didn't bother Tatsumi in the slightest because, being shinigami, both men had fully recovered from their injuries soon afterwards, and whatever damage they inflicted to each other was their own fault anyway and would hopefully discourage them from further fighting; not that it ever had before. 

Tatsumi took advantage of this current peaceful state to work through the reports and documents that had managed to build up over some of the more hectic days, with a furious pace. His hands darting like lighting across his desk as he collated papers, signed documents, tallied receipts and balanced budgets. The secretary was on a mission, to get back on schedule or die trying…although the latter would be a rather difficult feat since Tatsumi was already deceased, but that was not the point.

Even Tsuzuki should have known better than to disturb his colleague when he was in this condition. But the violet-eyed man had learnt his lesson earlier that day when he had tried to coax the secretary out for lunch and in return had been thrown out of the office…literally. Needless to say, everyone made sure to keep his or her distance after that. If something like that could happen to Tsuzuki, who everyone (except the brunet himself) knew to be Tatsumi's favorite, then there was no telling what the secretary might do to someone he was on less favorable terms with. 

So it was surprising when, just towards the end of the day, Tatsumi was finally snapped out of his work frenzy by a simple piece of paper. 

A notice of death. Over his years as a shinigami Tatsumi had seen many such documents. Considering it's significance the notice was truly nothing much to look at. Plain paper, ironically the colour of bleached bones, thin, almost skeletal looking typed characters and finally Enma Daioh's official seal written with deep violet ink. Tatsumi did not receive a notice for every single death that occurred in Japan, if so the sheer amount of paperwork would make it impossible for him to leave the office. The Shokan division only received individual statements, like the one he was currently holding in his hands, when the death mentioned was related to one of the cases being conducted by the shinigami. 

This simple piece of paper informed him that Kurosaki Nagare had died in his sleep early that morning. 

He delicately placed the paper back onto his desk for a moment while he pondered this new information. He realized that this ending must have been long coming for the young clan head. The toll that Yatonogami's curse had taken, and the trauma of the previous weeks, had been clearly displayed in Nagare's depleting form and dull eyes. Eventually the once proud stance and regal posture, that Tatsumi had so admired, gave way as well, Nagare's straight spine becoming slightly bent, like the blade of katakana, his sure and graceful movements turning fragile and delicate. And that had just been a few days after Yatonogami was vanquished. Surely the other man's condition had worsened further after Tatsumi and Watari left Kamakura. 

Tatsumi couldn't help feeling guilty for that. Even though Nagare had been aware that neither he nor Watari were true doctors, the clan head had let go of his pride for a moment and implored both men to stay in his home for just a little while longer. The secretary wondered if Nagare would still be alive now if he and Watari had just lingered on in Kamakura for one more day. 

No, that was impossible. With the demon gone and Kasane's spirit finally sent on to the afterlife, they had no real reason to remain, and it would have been a breach of regulation for them to have done so. Also, there was the possibility that Nagare might have eventually discovered their status as shinigami.

Tsuzuki was the one who got into trouble for being too concerned for the people in his assignments. Not Tatsumi.

He sighed softly and picked up the sheath of paper again, wondering how he would break the news to Kurosaki-kun. As he did so a flash of violet caught his eye. There was something else bearing Enma's seal. How unusual. Tatsumi found himself reaching down for the pile of papers on his desk. Each of them was signed with that deep purple ink, seven documents in total.

The first being an application form for JuOhCho's newest Shinigami.

***

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Ah…The AU part's pretty obvious now. I'm just assuming that by the end of this arc Yatongami would be taken care of as Tatsumi seems powerful enough to be able to finish the job. 


	2. Chapter 2

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Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who read my last chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Thanks to everyone who offered to beta-read for me! And thanks to Lady Shinnite for actually doing that most likely brain searing job! So once again, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone! 

Also chapter 1 has been edited but nothing really too drastic. Just a little tweaking to make it sound better.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, that privilege belongs to the wonderful Matsushita-sensei. Let us all worship her.

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Learning to Breathe

Chapter 2

It was close to midnight as Hisoka and Tsuzuki made their way through one of the poorer districts of Nagasaki. The night was quite chilly and both shinigami had the collars of their coats turned up to ward off the biting cold wind. They walked in silence, Tsuzuki's usually infallible genkiness dampened by what would have been considered, even by Tatsumi's standards, to be a very long day. 

The pair had just recently finished a rather ghastly assignment involving a motorcycle that had been cursed by the owner's wife as retribution for his infidelity. After her husband's death, the woman had sold off the bike, thinking that the accident had either been a coincidence, or better yet, divine justice (as she had told Tsuzuki). 

Unfortunately the curse hadn't ended, and the next person to purchase the motorcycle died as well, in a painful collision with a public bus, taking three other innocents with him. The bike had continued to be sold, leaving almost a dozen deaths in it's passing while, at the same time, not receiving even as much as a scratch in it's paint work. Eventually word had gotten to Meifu and Tsuzuki and Hisoka found themselves stuck with the tedious task of going to car dealership to car dealership posing as a pair of pedantic motorcycle ethusiasts. 

The job had been tolerable enough at first, especially considering the fact that in the past few years they had been working together, the pair had been faced with several cases involving suicides, mass murders, demons and copious amounts of blood and core. 

And Muraki, who pretty much embodied all of that as well as his own, patented brand of psychotic possessive sadism. 

No, the motorcycle case hadn't been anywhere near as bad as any of those, but it had been _frustrating_. Mainly due to the large amount of time it was necessary for them to be around used car salesmen. 

The over zealous dealers all seemed to be saying one thing, while at the same time thinking something totally different. A fact that played merry hell with Hisoka's empathy. And to top it all off, Hisoka had to constantly keep an eye on Tsuzuki as the more gullible Shinigami had almost been conned into buying several motorcycles that looked absolutely nothing like the one they had been sent to find. And, heaven forbid, at the second to last store Tsuzuki had somehow managed to end up seconds away from signing the ownership papers for a car. Fortunately the blond dragged his partner away before _that_ had happened. Cars where definitely outside of Enmachou's budget, so there was no telling what kind of fit Tatsumi would have thrown when he received the bill. Not to mention the idea of Tsuzuki driving was frightening enough. Hisoka highly doubted the violet-eyed man had ever gotten around to getting a licence; Tsuzuki could barely navigate a simple computer word processor, let alone a stick shift. 

So by the time they had finally managed to locate the motorcycle and transport it too Meifu with them, Hisoka had managed to acquire what felt like a permanent headache that throbbed within his temples like a second heartbeat. He was looking forward to spending the next few days in the office doing his share of paperwork (and probably Tsuzuki's in the end as well), surrounded by people who's emotions were familiar and unobtrusive. Even though the chaotic atmosphere of the Shokan division would make it seem like a more stressful environment, and it _had_ been that way at first, Hisoka was so used to it by now that almost nothing that went on there seemed to phase him any more. And if the teenager thought on it for long enough, the old, worn, mirror image of the Diet building, felt more like home to him, then the place where he kept his things and slept at night. 

People, Hisoka mused, really did get attached to the stupidest things…The youth felt his lips twitch in an almost smile as he quickly glanced at the back of the man who was walking a few steps ahead of him. 

A few seconds later, Hisoka realised that he had stopped moving altogether and quickly took a few long strides to catch up to his former position just a little behind Tsuzuki. At the same time he brought his mind back to his previous train of thought. And that was, how, in comparison, spending the next few days in Meifu doing paperwork, would have been quite pleasant.

Would have been that is, until ten minutes to five that afternoon. Hisoka was just finishing up his last report for the day and Tsuzuki had already given up all pretence of working, thrown on his coat and started a mostly one sided conversation with his partner about where they should go for dinner, when Tatsumi had arrived. The secretary had been clutching a case file in hand, which he quickly offered to Hisoka. 

The boy had flipped through it idly. It was a simple enough case; an elderly man who had died of heart attack was still lingering on in the land of the living. All Tsuzuki and Hisoka would have to do was locate the man and send his spirit on. 

No big emergency. No rush. 

It would have made sense for them to have just got right into it the very next morning.

Which is why Hisoka was so surprised when Tatsumi ordered the both of them to depart for Nagasaki immediately. 

Hisoka and Tsuzuki were both speechless. The secretary was notorious for being a slave driver but sending shinigami off on assignments right before the end of the day, when there was no emergency, was a little excessive, even for him. 

And it _had_ been Tatsumi's idea. 

Hisoka knew this because immediately after receiving the assignment, Tsuzuki had first turned appalled puppy eyes on the shadow master and when that hadn't worked had run off to try and reason with Konoe Kachou.

Surprisingly enough, the older man had had no idea of the new assignment. This struck Hisoka as being rather odd, because even though Tatsumi had often gone over Konoe's head before, it was usually only in the financial matters of the Shokan division. He didn't have the authority to send workers off on the assignments without permission. And even more strangely, when Konoe announced that they wouldn't have to do the assignment the shadow master had quickly pulled the aged shinigami out of the room for a quiet consultation. 

Both men didn't return until several minutes later, with Konoe then saying that he was in full agreement with Tatsumi before shoving Tsuzuki and his young partner out the door and slamming it behind them. 

Since then they had spent several hours wandering around Nagasaki looking for one Yazawa Kenji. They had checked his burial plot first, followed by several hours exploring the hospital where Yazawa had passed away. Somewhere around seven o'clock Hisoka had gotten the idea that it might be productive to go and visit Yazawa's widow. They had only just left her home now. 

While Hisoka secretly admired, and maybe even envied, his partner's ability to open his heart to everyone he crossed paths with, Tsuzuki's compassion could be highly inefficient when they were trying to work through a case quickly. The youth could understand how Tsuzuki might have been compelled to stay in Yazawa Keiko's home for a little longer than necessary, while expressing condolences for her loss. The old woman had been extremely kind to the two handsome young men who had so suddenly appeared on her doorstep, claiming to be distant cousins of her late husband, serving them tea and chatting to them about her Kenji's life and achievements. 

Then she had moved on to their children's lives and achievements. Then came her grandchildren. Hisoka finally managed to drag his sympathetic companion outside when the clock read eleven thirty, and Yazawa-san was just getting started on her great-grandson's success in finger painting, and the brilliance of her great-grand daughter Aika who was already proficient at tying her own shoelaces. 

"But she was just about to show us photos of Mai-chan's school play!" Tsuzuki had whined as he struggled against his partner's grip and attempted to re-climb the porch steps that the pair had just descended.

"It's almost midnight, Tsuzuki," Hisoka had reasoned, "I think we should let Yazawa-san get some sleep."

Tsuzuki response had been to stare the blond mournfully, "She might not be able to though…" He paused. Swallowed. "The first night's always the hardest."

Hisoka had fought back a sigh, as he became aware of the slight aura of guilt and sorrow that was wafting towards him from Tsuzuki's direction. No doubt those emotions were being felt ten times stronger from behind Tsuzuki's thick mental shields. 

"If Yazawa-san has trouble sleeping," Hisoka explained calmly, as he began to walk in the direction of their hotel, "She can call Akimi-san or Satoshi-san or Kei-kun or even Mai-chan. She has plenty of sympathetic family members at her disposal should she get lonely. It's not our duty."

"Ah…" Tsuzuki offered his partner a weak, sleepy smile. Apparently Hisoka's words had had the desired effect and the violet-eyed man began to walk away as well.

Tsuzuki had been unusually quiet since then, which was why Hisoka had found himself with so much time to think about the day's happenings. Tatsumi's behaviour had been irrational, eccentric even. He hoped that the secretary was merely having an off day. 

Hisoka watched as his partner's steps came to a gradual stop outside the cheap hotel that had been booked for them. It seemed that at the very least Tatsumi's spending habits where as frugal as usual. The building was so dilapidated looking, that Hisoka would consider himself to be very lucky indeed, if he woke up the next morning to find the walls hadn't fallen down around him during the night. Not that being crushed to death would kill him but one could imagine it would not be a very pleasant experience. 

Tsuzuki smiled kindly at Hisoka as he held the battered wooden door open for his partner. They both went inside.

**

Elsewhere, in a place that was far colder and darker than Nagasaki at midnight, Kurosaki Nagare wandered. 

The blond man found this strange for several reasons; the first being that there didn't appear to be any ground below for him to be wandering on, and second and more importantly, he was dead and as far as Nagare was concerned, dead people didn't ramble around aimlessly. 

Of course, Kasane's death hadn't stopped her from roaming the world of the living, this was true, but even she, in her decayed state of mind, had had some purpose to her meandering, some destination in mind. 

But behind Nagare there was only darkness. 

Before him, darkness.

Not knowing what else to do, Nagare walked on. 

**

"Nagare? A shinigami?" A pair of bespectacled amber eyes watched Tatsumi with growing bafflement.

"Yes, I just said that Watari. Please try and pay a little more attention, this _is_ a rather important matter." The secretary's words were a little less controlled than usual, slightly raw and snappish. It was obvious to Watari that the present situation did not sit well with the shadow master. Even without using his voice as an indicator, Tatsumi's tense posture alone was enough to make the man's displeasure known to anyone who knew him well enough.

Then of course there was the fact that every single shadow in the secretary's office had slipped away from under file cabinets and behind curtains to congregate around the base of Tatsumi's chair. 

Now, _that_ was a bad omen if Watari ever saw one.

Not that a brilliant scientist such as himself, would be deterred by something as trivial as Tatsumi's ill temper…even though it might end up the lab's budget being hacked so violently that he wouldn't have enough materials to make his potions…or, the horror! Tatsumi might even go so far as to prevent him from using Tsuzuki as a test subject…Anyway, the point was, Watari wasn't going to let it bother him. The best option was probably to just keep talking as normal. 

The blond turned his attention back towards his companion who was going on about how 'this whole business was going to traumatise Kurosaki-kun even further…' and '….the office will become and even more awkward place to work than it already is' and 'thank the heavens I managed to trick the pair of them into leaving on a mission for a few days, that should…'

"Soooo…" Watari cut in cheerfully, fixing his co-worker with a smug grin. "Nagare's going to be working with us now."

"Yes, that point has already been clearly established Watari but…"

Still smiling perkily, Watari raised his voice slightly so that it overrode Tatsumi's slightly annoyed tone. "You must be quite pleased."

Tatsumi had stopped talking, slightly confused by Watari's comment. Seeing his coworker's puzzled expression, the scientist continued talking, "After all, you too did seem to get along famously…Now that Nagare's come to work for us, maybe you two can become even better _friends_."

Then Watari tilted his face slightly and gave the secretary a very slow, very exaggerated, suggestive wink. 

The office was completely silent for a moment as Tatsumi stared at Watari, his face as cold and unemotional as a Noh mask. The sound of a gentle breeze, ruffling the branches of the ever-blooming sakura outside was the only noise in that peaceful room. 

The calm before the storm

**

One of the Gushoushin was casually floating down a corridor, a stack of books nestled in his feathery arms, when a loud shriek sounded out from one of the nearby rooms. Startled, the feathered librarian jolted in midair and watched in horror as his precious books came crashing to the ground. He clicked his beak disapprovingly and wafted down onto the floor, where he began to restack the heavy volumes neatly. 

The screams and pain-filled cries continued but the bird ignored them. Those screams where definitely coming from Tatsumi-san's office, so hopefully it was Tsuzuki, being punished for going over budget again. 

He never really had gotten over the destruction of his precious library.

**

TBC


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